Plain and Simple
by Shiralala
Summary: A giant party is being held to celebrate Matthew's birthday, and the whole school shows up. With the Bad Touch Trio bringing alcohol, things get "exciting for reals", and one thing leads to another... Feelings will be admitted, if Gil can summon the courage. FrUK, PruCan, Spamano, possible GerIta later on. K because I don't know how bad I should consider Lovi's language.


**Quick A/N: In this AU, Mattie was raised by his cousin, Francis, and called him "Papa" when he was younger, as his own father was often absent. Alfred's father died in an accident, so Alfred was raised by Arthur. Alfred and Matthew are half-brothers: they have the same mom. Alfred took his father's last name, in his memory. Alfred and Arthur are cousins on Alfred's father's side, and Francis is Matt's cousin on _Matt's_ father's side. So, Francis can pursue Arthur, because they aren't actually related :3**

**And Alfred is a year older than Matt, but he usually acts less mature.**

**That was longer than I intended... Oh well.**

**And just to clarify: the story takes place on July 1st. Alfred and Francis decided to throw a gigantic party (Arthur tried halfheartedly to stop them) and wouldn't listen to Matthew's protests. So, as a result, pretty much the whole school ended up at their house.**

* * *

"Vögelchen!"

Matthew spun around, just in time to see a flash of silver before he was glomped, almost falling over. "G-gil!" He laughed, blushing slightly from how close the albino was. The Prussian laughed as well, his signature "kesesesese~"

Gilbert propped the Canadian upright again, giving him a once-over before nodding in approval, red eyes sparkling. "You look good, Matthew." Matt blushed again, this time rolling his eyes. "Papa-I mean, Francis-and Alfred insisted on picking out what I'd wear." He shook his head, sighing. "I think my normal clothes are fine..."

Gilbert nodded earnestly. "Your normal clothes are _okay_... but you look super-duper awesomely cute in what you're wearing!" Gil chuckled again when the younger boy's cheeks flushed, for the third time.

"Why do you always do that, Gil?" Matt reached up, touching his scarlet cheek. "Because you're cute to begin with, but you're adorable when you blush," Gil replied, smirking as the Canadian's cheeks darkened two shades.

"Staaaahp, Gilbert," Matt swatted playfully at his friend. The door opened, and Gil was suddenly distracted by the sudden yelling of "ABSOLUTELY NOT, TOMATO BASTARD!"

"Sorry, be back in a little bit, 'kay, Vögelchen?" Gil apologized, starting toward his Spanish friend, but then paused, and turned back around. He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to Matthew's cheek. "Happy birthday, Mattie."

The Prussian then set out toward the front door. As a result, he never saw Matt almost faint into a chair.

* * *

Francis approached Gilbert and Antonio, (who were already chatting animatedly,) still smiling, having seen the Canadian's reaction.

"When are you going to tell him, mon ami?" Francis asked, nodding toward his small cousin. Gilbert blinked, his face turning a faint pink. "Tonight, actually," he admitted. Both his friends grinned, and Tony "awwed".

"So, what didja bring?" Gil changed the subject. "I got awesome German beer, for obvious reasons."

Francis held up a bottle and shook it. "Champagne, la boisson de mon pays. Obviously~" The other two looked away, smirking.

"I think we all brought the drink of our home country, amigos!" Antonio chirped. "Because I brought-"

"To-ma-to-bas-tard!" A grumpy Italian cut in, accentuating each syllable with a poke to Antonio's chest. The Spaniard looked down at him. "Si, Lovi? Qué the quieres?" Lovino paused, blushing a bit and stared at his shoes. "P-Prestare attenzione a me, dannazione..." he said softly.

Antonio smiled, as Gilbert and Francis attempted to cover their own. "All you needed to do was ask, tomate," he said, taking Lovino's hand-ignoring the half-hearted protests-and started off through the crowd, sending a meaningful look back at the other two-thirds of the Bad Touch Trio.

"Well, I'm off to see if _mon Anglais_ has gotten his hands on any rum yet," Francis spoke up, shooting a wink at Gil. "Per'aps you should check on Mathieu; make sure that he is alright?"

Gilbert grinned again. "'Matter of fact, I think I will!" He said, turning to do just that. "Good luck with Herr Eyebrows, Francis." Francis chuckled. "Same to you, with your petit oiseau," he replied.

Gil watched his blond friend disappear in the direction of the kitchen, then headed back to where he'd last seen the small Canadian.

The grin never faded, but became a genuine smile.

**A/N: blarrrrg this probably sucks XP**

**I realized I'd never published a PruCan on here, so I thought I would edit this document so that I could post it!**

**Also: Anovia, this is a super-duper I'm sorry present for not working as hard as I could be on the FoeTPs story. This is going to be a multi-chapter fic, as soon as I have the time.**


End file.
